


Incendiary Grenade

by rauqthetommo



Series: Crossfire [19]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bill Denbrough is a Good Friend, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon Divergence - No Pennywise, Canon-Typical Violence, Caring Richie Tozier, Cliffhangers, Declarations Of Love, Eddie Kaspbrak is Bad at Feelings, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, For this canon anyway, Gore, Gun Violence, Hitman AU, Intrusive Thoughts, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mentions of Murder/Death, Mild Gore, OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sensitive Richie Tozier, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soft Richie Tozier, Some seriously heavy shit, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rauqthetommo/pseuds/rauqthetommo
Summary: Following the events of Frag Grenade:Eddie struggles to go through with his latest job.An excerpt from this work:Richie couldn’t move. His feet felt like they were glued to the floor, hands shaking as he stared at Eddie’s apartment door. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Mike fucking said that Damien Hayes didn’t even know about Eddie, he’d never worked with Bev before. Mike said they weren’t even on his fucking radar. How the fuck do you go from never speaking to a guy to being hired by him in two fucking days?Richie choked out a sob, willing himself to move. He needed to leave. To talk to Bill or Mike or someone, do something, anything. Everything was supposed to work out. Mike and Bill were planning every fucking detail of his ‘death’, working so hard to make it convincing to Hayes so he wouldn’t kill Bill or Mike or Stan and Patty, all Richie had to do was tell Eddie. Let him know the plan and convince him to go with. He figured Eddie would be hesitant, but he also thought he’d be able to convince him they’d be better off together somewhere else. They could be a family, just them, and they could get away from all of the fucked up shit here in LA.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Crossfire [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658356
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	Incendiary Grenade

**Author's Note:**

> Second to last part. If you have any questions at all, you can go to my tumblr and ask them there. My handle is @rauqthetommo. Thank you everyone for reading and sticking with me so long. I read and appreciate every comment. And, this is the last cliffhanger, so just one more I'm sorry for that. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Richie couldn’t move. His feet felt like they were glued to the floor, hands shaking as he stared at Eddie’s apartment door. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Mike fucking said that Damien Hayes didn’t even know about Eddie, he’d never worked with Bev before. Mike said they weren’t even on his fucking radar. How the fuck do you go from never speaking to a guy to being hired by him in two fucking days?

Richie choked out a sob, willing himself to move. He needed to leave. To talk to Bill or Mike or someone, do _something_ , _anything_. Everything was supposed to work out. Mike and Bill were planning every fucking detail of his ‘death’, working so hard to make it convincing to Hayes so he wouldn’t kill Bill or Mike or Stan and Patty, all Richie had to do was tell Eddie. Let him know the plan and convince him to go with. He figured Eddie would be hesitant, but he also thought he’d be able to convince him they’d be better off together somewhere else. They could be a family, just them, and they could get away from all of the fucked up shit here in LA.

“Fuck!” Richie gritted. He wanted to hit something, but there was nothing to hit. He took his phone out of his pocket and threw it down the hallway as hard as he could, listening to it clatter as it hit the floor.

He needed to calm down, he knew he did, but he was so fucking worked up that it felt like his blood was literally boiling in his veins. He just didn’t know what to do, where to go, who to talk to, he had nothing, no one. “Fuck!” He said again, balling up his fists and turning on his heel, stalking down the hallway to retrieve his phone.

“Calm down, Rich.” He mumbled to himself. “Go for a walk, you can figure this out.” He jogged down the stairs and towards the lobby, too worked up to wait for the elevator. “Just calm down.” He told himself again, nearly shoulder-checking Eddie’s obnoxious neighbor Mr. Lee as he stumbled out onto the street.

***

Eddie spent the first twenty minutes after Richie left crying, curled up into a ball on the living room floor and shaking aggressively. His brain screamed for his inhaler as he sobbed, but he couldn’t move. He felt so fucking stupid. How could he have let Richie into his life? How could he have gotten so attached to him? He thought back to when Bev picked him up from juvie, the car ride they’d shared on their way back into the city. “Be an island, Eddie.” She’d said to him. “You don’t ever need to worry about anyone else because you’ve got me and I’m all you need. I’ll give you money and jobs and safety, and that’s all you need to concern yourself with.”

_Inhaler._

Eddie grabbed his aspirator from the coffee table and threw it against the wall. It shattered completely, sending shards of plastic all over the living room.

 _Settle down._ He tried to calm himself, sitting up against the couch and trying to steady his breathing. _Flying off the handle won’t change anything._

_Inha—_

“It’s fucking gone!” Eddie snapped, cutting his brain off. “There’s no more fucking inhaler so you’d better pick something else to pester me about.”

For once his brain was quiet, so he scrubbed his hand over his face and took some more calming breaths.

“Everything is fine,” He told himself. “I can do this. This is just like any other job I’ve ever taken.”

_No, it isn’t, because Richie loves you—_

“Richie doesn’t love me,”

_He said he did._

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s an idiot.”

_He knows better than you do what love is._

“Richie doesn’t love me.” Eddie said again, meaning it to be the final word on the subject.

_You can’t kill him._

“Fuck you, of course I can.” Eddie pushed himself to his feet, brushing off his seat of his jeans.

He stumbled his way into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, his face flushed and hot with his anger. His hair was sticking out wildly, the curls on the back of his head pushed flat from where he’d been lying on the couch when Richie was blowing him. He hadn’t even buttoned his fucking jeans yet. “I’m going to kill Richie Tozier.” He said to his reflection.

Both he and his reflection nodded at each other. He gripped the edges of his sink tightly, his stomach turning so suddenly he thought he was going to throw up. He took another shaky breath in through his nose before turning away and retreating to his bedroom to begin collecting the shit he needed for his job.

***

Eddie spent the next hour getting ready, reading over Richie’s file again in case he’d missed anything. He hadn’t, and there was shit he knew just from hanging out with Richie that wasn’t in the file at all, so he was well prepared for the hit, but his hands still shook as he reloaded his gun, standing in his living room dressed in the same outfit he’d worn the night he’d met Richie. Poetic irony.

A frantic knocking on the door pulled Eddie from his thoughts. He laid his pistol down on the coffee table and stood on his toes to look through his peephole. “Richie,” He frowned as he threw the door open. “What are you doing here?”

Richie pushed past Eddie and into the apartment, turning to face him. “I—“

“You can’t be here.” Eddie shook his head, hand resting on the door handle. “You’re my mark, Richie, you need to go.”

“I’m not leaving.” Richie shook his head, eyes scanning over the living room.

Eddie moved around Richie and picked up his cellphone off the table. “You need to go, Rich.” He started a timer on his phone. “I’m giving you a 30 minute head start. You need to be gone, or I’m going to kill you.”

 _Pussy_ _._ His brain spit.

 _This is for the best._ He insisted.

“No,” Richie shook his head again.

“Richie, I’m serious. You need to go, get as far away from here as possible.” Eddie shoved him back towards the door. “Go somewhere I’ll never find you, please, you have 30 minutes, just go.”

_Kill him. Now._

“I’m not leaving.” Richie stood his ground.

“Leave, Richie!” Eddie yelled again, frustrated.

“No.” Richie looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Do you want to die?” Eddie demanded.

“If the alternative is living without you, then yes!” Richie took a step forward. “I love you, Eddie.”

“Why do you keep saying that?!”

“Because it’s true, I love you! I love you so much it hurts sometimes, Eddie!”

“What is wrong with you that you’d want to be with me?!” Eddie asked, exasperated.

Richie shook his head, stuttering. “I—“

“You need to go, Richie.” Eddie said.

“No,”

“Go, Richie!”

“No!” He repeated.

Eddie exhaled angrily and picked up his pistol from the table. He stepped forward, pressing the barrel of the gun to Richie’s forehead. “I’ll kill you right now, then!” He snapped.

Richie didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He stood with his arms at his sides, frowning, tears silently running down his cheeks. Eddie’s finger trembled on the trigger, trying desperately to pull it. But he couldn’t. He looked into Richie’s wide, dark eyes and thought of all of the times he made him smile, all of the dumb jokes he’d told, all of the times he’d confided in him, the times he’d held him. He couldn’t kill him. Eddie yelled in frustration and moved the gun away, firing two shots into the ceiling next to Richie's head. “Goddamn it!”

Richie flinched at the sound of the gunshots, bringing his hands up to cover his ears and tucking away.

This was bad. This was bad bad. This was bad bad bad. How could he let something like this happen? How could he let some fucking idiot into his life? Richie ruined him. He didn’t have a choice anymore. He laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “Fine,” Eddie spit, raising the gun to his own temple. If he couldn’t kill then he couldn’t live.

“No!” Richie snapped, slapping the gun aside as it fired. The fresh bullet shot straight upwards, scraping along the side of Eddie’s face as it went, leaving a trail of blood over his temple and cheekbone. His hands shook violently as the gun clattered to the floor. “You’re bleeding.” Richie said softly, stepping forward. “And you’re shaking.”

“Just let me die, Richie.” Eddie said miserably as Richie pulled him into a tight hug.

“I love you,” Richie whispered, tears running off his cheeks and into Eddie’s hair.

“Please,” Eddie cried quietly, unsure of what he was asking for. “Please,” He said again, weakly trying to pull from Richie’s grip. “Please.”

***

Richie cleaned Eddie up quickly, sitting him down on the edge of his tub and wiping the blood and gunpowder from his face. “I love you,” He whispered softly, lips gentle against Eddie’s forehead.

Eddie hadn’t been able to stop crying, tears flowing down his face and onto his chest as Richie bandaged up his temple.

_You’re so fucking stupid, Eddie, look what you did you’ve ruined everything you fucking idiot goddamn moron goddamn stupid piece of shit how could you—_

“Eddie, look at me.” Richie hooked his fingers under Eddie’s chin, tipping his face up. “Eddie.”

Eddie shifted his eyes to Richie, lungs pulling heavily as he struggled to calm down.

_Inhaler._

_It’s fucking gone._

“I love you, Eds.” Richie swiped his thumbs under Eddie’s eyes, clearing the tears away as more and more fell. “I love you so fucking much, Eddie, more than anything else in the world.” He crouched down in front of Eddie, still holding his chin in his hand. “I can help you. Me and Bill.” He shook his head. “We can just call Beverly, tell her you can’t take this hit. Or have Bill talk to her or something.” He dragged his hand through Eddie’s hair, cupping the side of his head. “You don’t have to be scared Eddie, we can help you.”

_No no no no no no no—_

“Eddie?” Richie took Eddie’s face in his hands. “Are you spiraling, honey?”

Eddie tried to shake his head but it wouldn’t move.

_No no no no no no—_

“Talk to me, baby, what can I do?” Richie’s eyes were full of genuine concern, his eyebrows pulled together and lips twisted into a frown. “Eds?”

“No,” Eddie said softly, finally managing to shake his head a little.

“No?” Richie repeated.

“There’s nothing you can do.” Eddie locked his eyes on the tiled floor in front of him. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”

***

Richie managed to get Eddie into the bath, filling it up with steaming water and lowering him gently into the tub, head leaned back against the bath pillow. He washed Eddie gently with a washcloth, scrubbing over his skin with his lilac soap, stopping every so often to kiss his cheek or nose at his hair. “I love you,” Richie whispered again, never one to be deterred.

Eddie didn’t answer, simply drawing his legs up to his chest and shaking his head, eyes stinging from his tears and the steam from the water.

_Bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad—_

“Stop,” Eddie said softly.

“You want me to stop?” Richie frowned at him, laying his hand over Eddie’s knee.

“Not you,” Eddie shook his head, burying his face in his knees and sniffling loudly.

“Eddie, honey—“ Richie laid the washcloth on the edge of the tub and reached out to touch his shoulder.

“I need my cellphone,” Eddie took a shaky breath, turning to look at him.

“Eds, baby—“

“Please, Richie, bring me my phone.” Richie continued frowning, hand resting on the wet skin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Please, Rich.” Eddie said quietly.

Richie nodded slowly, leaning forwards and kissing Eddie’s cheek again. “Wait right here, sweetness, I’ll be right back.”

Eddie watched Richie stand and leave, leaving the door to the bathroom open as he searched the living room for Eddie’s cellphone. Eddie briefly considered getting out of the tub, locking the door and slitting his wrists with his razor while Richie was gone, but he figured he wouldn’t bleed out fast enough and Richie would just call for paramedics and save him again. He returned after a few minutes with Eddie’s cellphone, handing it to him and kneeling on the ground next to the tub again. Eddie hesitated for a second before redialing the number that Beverly had called him from. She answered on the first ring. “Hey, kiddo.” She sounded chipper. “Everything go ok?”

Eddie took a shaky breath, chest heavy. “I—“ He stuttered, eyes flashing over to Richie. “I can’t do it, Bev.” His voice was small, barely more than a whisper.

She was quiet for a beat. “Can’t do what, hon?”

More tears fell as he shook his head, wet cheeks brushing over his knees. “I can’t kill Richie, Beverly, please.” He let out a choking sob. “Please, Beverly, I— I—.” He shook his head again. “I can’t, Bev, please.”

Beverly was quiet again, for a long time, just breathing into the speaker as Richie rubbed slow circles onto Eddie’s back. “I’m sorry, bud.” She finally said, sighing. “That’s too bad, Eddie. Really.”

“Beverly—“ The line went dead before he could speak again.

Eddie let the phone slip from his hands and into the bath, plunking down loudly into the water and settling on the porcelain. “Shit, Eddie.” Richie plunged his hand into the water and pulled his phone out, shaking it out quickly. “What did she say?” Richie pulled the hand towel off of the ring and patted the phone dry.

Eddie just shook his head, once again unable to stop his tears. “Nothing.” He looked over to Richie, rubbing water off of his phone screen. “She didn’t say anything.”

***

“Wuh-what do you mean, ‘I’m Eddie’s mark?’ What the fuck does that mean, Richie?”

Richie had called Bill immediately after he’d pulled Eddie out of the tub. His call with Beverly hadn’t gone well, based on Eddie’s reaction to it, and Richie was getting more and more concerned. He figured it was smart keep Bill up to date on all of this, so he could do his best to help them. “His old handler, Beverly, called him this afternoon. Damien Hayes hired him to kill me.”

“Mike said Hayes didn’t knuh-know about Eddie. Or Bev. How did this happen?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Richie hissed.

“Jesus, Richie.” Bill scoffed. “I’m truh-trying to help you here, man.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Richie ran his hand through his hair. “I just—“ Richie frowned over to Eddie where he sat, unmoving, on his sofa. “It’s just that fucking— Eddie’s fucking catatonic right now, Big Bill, I’m fucking panicking over here, I don’t know what to do.”

“Did Eddie take the j-job?” Bill asked.

“No. Well, yes— but he called Bev back and told her he couldn’t do it.”

“And then what happened?”

“She fucking hung up on him and now he’s—“ Richie took a deep breath. “He’s like a fucking ghost, Bill.”

“Do you want m-me to come over there?”

“Hang on,” Richie crouched in front of Eddie, rubbing over his knee gently. “Do you want Bill to come over, baby?”

Eddie shook his head, eyes locked on the coffee table. “No,”

“He said no, Bill.”

“I don’t know what I can d-do to help you, Rich.”

“Whatever you were gonna do for me, just do it for Eddie too. If Damien Hayes thinks we’re both dead, he won’t come after you guys.”

“Richie, this is g-getting too risky, bud.” Bill said. “I fucking told you we should have dropped Eddie.”

“Yeah, well, hindsight is 20/20, Bill.” Richie snapped. “Maybe you should try and call him. Damien, I mean. Talk to him,”

“What good will that do?”

“He likes you!”

“Richie,” Bill sighed heavily. “I’m not exactly on his good side right now. Heh-heh-he’s so fucking pissed about you fucking up the Allen job, and even more so about you lying to him, not to mention the fucking Marian hit. You’ve muh-made a lot of mistakes, Rich. And they all fall to me, in the long run. You make me l-look bad every time you fuck up. I never have these issues with M-mikey.”

“Bill—“

“I’m not done,” Bill said sternly. “Richie, Mike was right, I’m lucky that Damien Hayes hasn’t taken a hit out on _me_. Do you understand?”

“Bill, I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry I’m such a fuckup. I’m sorry that I can’t even do this right, and I’m sorry I make everything such a goddamn nightmare for you, but I need your help now, Bill, please.”

Bill sighed heavily. “I’ll see what I can do, Richie. I c-care about you so much, and I care about Eddie too, really.”

“I know that,” Richie nodded. “Thank you. I love you, Big Bill.”

“I love you too, Richie. I’ll talk to you later,”

The line went dead and Richie slid his phone back into his pocket. “Honey,” Richie knelt down in front of Eddie, brushing some of his hair behind his ear. “Bill is going to talk to Damien Hayes, ok? He’s gonna try to fix this, baby.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “Ok,”

“I love you so much, Eddie.” Richie kissed the end of his nose. “So, so fucking much, Eds. It makes my stomach hurt how much I love you, babe.”

Eddie nodded again. “Ok,”

Richie leaned up and kissed Eddie’s forehead, settling next to him on the couch and pulling Eddie fully onto his lap. “I love you, Eddie.” He said again, resting Eddie’s head over his heart and brushing his hair back from his face. “I love you,”

***

Richie woke up to his cellphone ringing, vibrating rapidly in his pocket. Eddie moaned softly from his place on Richie’s chest, wrapping his arms tighter around Richie’s middle. “Hello?” Richie asked groggily, blinking in the dim morning light shining in through the windows.

“Richie,” It was Bill. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Eddie’s,” He said softly, dropping a kiss to Eddie’s hair.

“I have a j-job for you,”

“A job?” Richie frowned. “Did you talk to Damien?”

“Yes,” Bill scoffed, as if Richie’s concern was annoying him.

“And?”

“He’s fucking pissed, R-richie.”

“But he still gave you a job?”

“It’s not from him.” Bill spoke rapidly, like he was in a hurry. “It’s from a man n-named Adam Yeshien.”

“Who is—“

“It doesn’t matter,” Bill cut him off. “Shut up and listen to me. Adam Yeshien hired you, and Eddie, to bruh-break into the Hyland’s Medical building downtown. They have a vault in their basement,”

“What kind of medical facility has a vault?” Richie stroked his fingers over Eddie’s back softly.

“The kind that’s a front fuh-for a mafia family.”

“What a weird front,” Richie said.

“Is now the best time for you snide remarks?” Bill demanded.

“Bill, we aren’t fucking burglars. We’re hitmen.” Richie shook his head, frowning.

“Richie, I’m trying to fucking help you, m-man. This job is an out. If we can get in good with Yeshien’s people, th-they can protect you. Us. Eddie.”

“Eddie,” Richie said softly, more of a gut reaction than anything else.

Eddie groaned softly.

“Yes, Eddie.” Bill said.

“I’ve never heard of Yeshien before. How can we trust him?”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the fucking mouth, Ruh-richie.” Bill scolded him. “Take the fucking job. It isn’t a suggestion.”

***

“We aren’t burglars,” Eddie shook his head, frowning at Richie from his place on the couch, arms crossed over his chest.

“I know that,” Richie nodded.

He’d woken Eddie up after he’d gotten off the phone with Bill, carefully explaining the details of their situation to him. Bill was right, they needed an out. And if they could get in good with this Yeshien guy, then maybe he’d be able to protect them from Damien Hayes and his people. It was worth a shot, at least. “I just don’t know, Richie.” Eddie shook his head, pulling his legs up to his chest.

“Your other option is killing me, Eds.” Richie reminded him. “If Damien would even take you back after you bailed.”

Eddie made a soft whining sound, lip wobbling. “This fucking sucks.” He said quietly, dropping his face into his knees again.

“I know, honey.” Richie scooted closer to him, draping his arm over Eddie’s shoulders. “But we don’t really have any other options right now.”

“What do we do, Richie?”

“We take this job,” Richie kissed the side of Eddie’s head. “We take this job and we get the protection we need from Yeshien.”

“But for how long?” Eddie looked up, tears streaking his flushed cheeks. “Richie, we can’t just fucking hide forever!”

“Then we can leave,” Richie shook his head.

“Leave?”

“Yes, you and me. Mike and Bill were working on a way to fake our deaths so we could get away from all of this. We can leave LA and go somewhere together. New York, Maine, Italy, fucking China, I don’t care. As long as I’m with you.”

“What about Bill? And Stanley? They’re your friends, Richie.”

“They’ll be fine,” Richie took Eddie’s hands in his. “Bill’s got Mike. Stan has Patty. They’ll survive, they’re strong. There will always be more people to kill.”

“Richie, I don’t know.” Eddie shook his head.

“Marry me, Eddie.” Richie blurted.

“What?” Eddie turned back to him, scowling.

“We could get married, Eds, you and me. We could live a good life together. Get normal jobs, have a house and a family. We could have anything you want to, Eddie. I love you.”

Eddie studied Richie’s face, brown eyes red from crying so much. “Richie, you don’t mean that—“

“I do, Eddie, I mean every part.” He squeezed Eddie’s hands softly. “You don’t have to answer right now. We can do this job first, and then when we’re done, you can give me your answer.”

Eddie sat in silence for a while, the seconds dragging out into minutes as he thought things over. Eventually, he nodded. “Ok,” He whispered. “We’ll do this job.” He looked up and met Richie’s eyes. “Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me anywhere! My handle for everything is @rauqthetommo! Feel free to ask me questions at all on my tumblr!


End file.
